


Chill

by maximum_overboner



Series: The Exchange [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Lighthearted, Oneshot, Sans and Papyrus hang out and just be bros without the constant looming threat of resets, as a remedy for angst, cute bro shenanigans, gen - Freeform, sans teaches papyrus how to use magic, some swearing/crude jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5895277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximum_overboner/pseuds/maximum_overboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a force as powerful as magic, sometimes it requires a little tutelage to keep it in check.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chill

**Author's Note:**

> This is a oneshot voted for by commenters on my main fic [I'm Feeling Fine, Kid](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5170061/chapters/11910140) (which i would recommend reading because this might not make a lot of sense without it.) Thank you Goodygoody19 for the idea of the bone bros messing about with magic, I thought it was so cute! I hope you enjoy it!

  “I DON’T NEED TO LEARN TO USE MY MAGIC, I’VE ALREADY PERFECTED EVERY POSSIBLE TECHNIQUE!”

  “you set the couch on fire trying the grab the remote.”

  “MAYBE I WANTED TO BE DRAMATIC!”

  “being dramatic is doing one of those poses you like, or the splits or something. being dramatic is not settin’ the couch on fire, then hollering my name like an entire human army has shown up in our living room to kill us.”

  Papyrus paused for a moment, nursing his wounded dignity. “I DON’T THINK AN ARMY WOULD FIT IN OUR LIVING ROOM UNLESS HUMANS ARE VERY, VERY SMALL. LIKE YOU!”

  Sans chuckled good-naturedly, more than capable of shrugging off jokes at his expense. “heh, don’t get smug just because puberty hit you like a sack of shit. i mean damn, you’re like a bean pole. i think i’m owed some height here, ‘cause this is not fair.” He rocked on his heels, easing some of the pressure on his feet, and sighed. “and i know you’re changing the subject. once you get the knacks down it ain’t difficult.”

  They were both in the living room, all furniture shifted into the hallway or pressed firmly to the wall, leaving a large square of space in the middle of the room, a makeshift arena that would suit their purposes. Papyrus was at one half, Sans on the other, washbucket prepared.

  “lets start off simple, alright? summon a bone. you’ve done that tons of times.”

  Papyrus twitched his finger, feeling the static of his soul, the gentle sway and pressure, and held his hand to his side, ready to grasp at the phantom structure. Something he had been able to do since he was a child, as natural as moving.

  The glove on his left hand burst into flames, unnaturally blue flickers washing out and destroying the red fabric, crisping and peeling away to reveal his hand. With no panic, Sans dunked a cloth into the cool water and immediately smothered the blaze, moving deftly to compensate for Papyrus’ flapping.

  “OH GOD, I’M AN ACCIDENTAL ARSONIST! WHEN WILL MY SPREE END? HOW MANY PEOPLE WILL SUFFER?”

  “fire’s out, pap.”

  “I WILL END UP BURNING DOWN THE WORLD, SANS! I MUST BE CONTAINED! THE WHOLE UNDERGROUND WILL END UP BEING COOKED IN THE MOUNTAIN’S CRUST LIKE A HORRIFYING PASTRY, BUT INSTEAD OF CREAM THERE’S DEATH! I AM THE HARBINGER OF OUR DEMISE!”

  “i’m gonna stop you there because wow, that is one hell of a statement. plus i’m so hungry for cake right now and that is not helping.”

  Papyrus was waving his arms, whole body shuddering as he whipped himself up into a frenzy, bobbing from foot to foot. “THIS IS IT, SANS! THIS IS THE END!”

  “you might be blowing this out of proportion.”

  He was really going for it, too-long limbs blurred in a flurry of movement. He was lanky, his body having not filled out to compensate for his new proportions, whipping back and forth like a tree in the wind. “SOMETHING SO SIMPLE, SO INGRAINED, SO VERY PAPYRUS, IS GONE! WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE--?”

  “dude, are you ok? you should calm down.”

  “ _I’M FREAKING OUT, SANS_ \--”

  He was cut off as a damp cloth hit him in the face, sticking and cooling, water dripping down his shirt as the sudden sensation cut him out of his rut. Slowly, he peeled it off, enjoying the feeling of relief, the pleasant chill that settled on his features in its absence. Sans was looking at him warily, eyes soft with what was clearly suppressed amusement.

  “better?”

  “BETTER. THANK YOU.”

  Sans felt the tension in his shoulders drop, a soft chuckle reverberating in his skull and escaping his rictus. “i wouldn’t worry about it, misfires happen, it’s one of those wacky teenage things. your emotions are all over the place. you remember that time i blew up the kitchen sink? wasn’t intentional.”

  “I JUST ASSUMED YOU REALLY HATED DOING THE DISHES.”

  “well, yeah, but it was an age thing too. it’s all fine as a kid, then you shoot up, get stronger, and your mind hasn’t caught up yet. you wake up one day and bam, it’s like you’re driving a tank and nobody’s told you the controls. and the tank is on fire. but it’s easy to fix. ”

  Sans breathed in; one long, languid inhale, then a soft exhale through the small gap in his mouth, the one he had allowed himself. “papyrus, do as i do.” He breathed in again, puffing out his chest in demonstration, then out, long, flowing and fluid. “don’t worry about conjuring anything, just. breathe. i’m gonna say this in the nicest way possible, but you’ve gotta chill the fuck out sometimes. you’re whippin’ yourself up over nothing, you’ll see.”

  “RIGHT. YES. BREATHING. THAT THING WE DON’T NEED TO DO, BECAUSE WE DO NOT HAVE ORGANS.”

  “the motion’s enough, trust me. you gotta relax, man. clear your head a little.”

  “IF YOU THINK IT WILL HELP.”

  And so Papyrus joined him, calm, long intakes of breath, and drawn out exhales settling nerves he didn’t know he had. They kept at it for five minutes, breathing in, breathing out, in unison and mutual understanding.

  “... SANS? SANS! YOU’VE DOZED OFF!”

  Sans felt his skull jolt up, a small trail of drool connecting the nook his head had left in his hoodie to his skull. He swatted it away, blearily remembering what he was doing.

  “OH, EW!

  “gah, sorry. that was gross.”

  “PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE GOING TO WASH THAT.”

  “yeah. eventually.”

  Papyrus laughed, his mocking voice high with affection, cracking slightly. “YOU’RE SUCH A SLOB!”

  “maybe it’s like some ancient skeleton tradition you don’t know about. maybe this is how we mark our territory,” Sans deadpanned, rolling his shoulders, scrunching at the rug underneath him with his toes in an effort to stay awake. “i’m keeping history alive, pap. why’re you trying to erase our proud past?”

  Papyrus was pinching the bridge of his nose, voice muffled by his hand. “DROOLING? THERE ARE MONSTERS RUNNING AROUND WITH THE POWER TO EXPLODE BOULDERS WITH THEIR MINDS, AND YOU WANT ME TO BELIEVE THAT OUR ANCIENT, HALLOWED BLOODLINE TECHNIQUE IS _DROOLING?_ ”

  Sans paused, letting the sentence hang. “... our family thing is probably the blue magic, isn’t it. and the bones.”

  “IT IS PROBABLY THE BONES, YES. I HATE TO SPRING THIS INFORMATION ON YOU, BUT WE ARE IN FACT LITERAL SKELETONS.”

  Sans was grinning, sincere and mirthful, as he always did when Papyrus would play along. “holy shit, you can’t just drop that on me. that’s big news, dude. you’re really--”

  “SANS, IF YOU SAY ANY VARIATION OF THE TERM ‘RATTLING MY BONES’ I WILL SET MYSELF ON FIRE AND SLAM DUNK MYSELF STRAIGHT THROUGH THE EARTH’S CRUST. I SWEAR TO GOD.”

  “geeze, you’re pretty--”

  Papyrus was leaning down to look him in the eye, his irritation already setting Sans off. “ _SANS_.”

  " _rattled_.”

  Papyrus swiftly brought his hands up to clasp at his skull in frustration, something oddly close to physical pain sitting in his chest. “EVEN WHEN I EXPECT IT, IT’S STILL AS TERRIBLE. HEARING THAT TOOK A YEAR OFF OF MY LIFE. I’LL BE WALKING DOWN THE STREET ONE DAY AND THE CUMULATIVE WEIGHT OF YOUR PUNS WILL CRUSH ME WITHOUT WARNING.”

  “c'mon, i’m not trying to grind you down.”

  “UGH!”

  Sans was chortling away to himself, proud of his ability to push Papyrus’ buttons, honed from years of practice. “you wanna take five? if you try using your magic now then i think you’ll blow up the neighborhood in a fit of grumpiness.”

  “THAT SEEMS LIKE A PLAN. I THINK I’LL HAVE SOME WARM MILK, TO KEEP ME CALM.”

  “cool.”

 

* * *

 

  “how the fuck did you set fire to _milk?_ _fuckin’ milk_ , dude!”

  Papyrus was sat awkwardly on the couch propped against the wall, one leg hunched to himself to stop it rattling. “I JUST WANTED TO WARM IT, SANS. I JUST WANTED TO _WARM_ IT!”

  “how is that even possible?”

  Papyrus threw his arms out, incredulous noises sitting and bubbling in his throat. “I DON’T KNOW!”

  Sans was sat on the end on the couch on the armrest, feet on the fabric much to Papyrus’ chagrin. “i was gonna take the ‘slow and steady route’, but damn, we gotta fix this.”

  “OH GOD, WHAT HAPPENS IF I’M IN THE BATH AND I START SETTING FIRES! I’LL BOIL THE WATER. I WILL END UP MAKING BOUILLON. PAPYRUS BOUILLON.” Papyrus was grabbing at the frayed cushion on his lap, kneading it, already feeling the panic rising back up in his chest.

  “i don’t know what that is, but it’s what we’re here to fix. stressing isn’t gonna help. once you get the knack for it back, there’ll be no more problems, trust me. _chill_.” Sans adjusted himself on the armrest, falling back into measured breathing. He gently kicked Papyrus, motioning for him to do the same.

  Papyrus settled back into the couch, letting his bones sink into the plush material, aware of every movement he made, the rustling of his shirt, the click of his bones, the gentle wind blowing in, cooling, freeing and calming. If he closed his eyes he could almost believe he was on the surface, pleasant air and rolling fields, perfect, like the pictures he had poured over in his books. One breath in, one breath out. He let his arms fall to his sides-- “OW!”

  Sans opened his eyes immediately, leaning forward. “dude, you ok?”

  Papyrus was picking at loose blue threads lodged in the small split in his arm, not truly painful, but certainly annoying. Ugh, this couch, it was like it was shedding. “NOTHING, SORRY.”

  “you gotta get that thing filled one day. look at it, it’s huge.”

  Papyrus looked at the crack in his ulna, hair thin and barely noticeable, like a twig in the snow. “OH, IT’S _HARDLY_ HUGE.”

  Sans slid down, plonking himself on the couch next to Papyrus with ease. “dude, it so is. you can fit, like, a whole family of four in there.”

  “NOBODY,” Papyrus huffed, picking out the last of the thread, “WILL BE LIVING IN MY ARM, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, the atmosphere relaxed, the building blocks of a memory Papyrus would come to treasure.

  Sans creaked his neck, head tilting to look at his brother. “try it now, pap.”

  Papyrus blinked, briefly forgetting what they had set out to do in the first place. “HMM? OH, RIGHT.” With an almost absent-minded flick of his wrist, dismissive and confident, he felt the bubbling of magic under his fingers, through the fine gaps in his bones. It crackled and sparked, blue flames flickering and casting a faint glow across them both. Sans was ready to dive for the washbucket again.

  All at once it solidified, smooth and brittle, into a humerus, unnaturally warm to the touch.

  Sans gave him a hefty thud on the back, the sudden impact causing the bone to fizzle and die as his concentration snapped. “hey man, i knew you could do it! shit, i should be a teacher. ‘hey kids, we’re gonna learn the hell out of some magic. grab a partner and wail on ‘em’.”

  Papyrus let his pride bubble up, puffed out chest and blowing scarf, haughty and amused. “NOT TO CRUSH YOUR DREAMS,” he poked, popping a hand on Sans’ shoulder, “BUT MAYBE YOU SHOULD CONSIDER A DIFFERENT CAREER PATH.”

  Sans was already laughing, eyes closed and belly shaking. “why you gotta burst my bubble, man? all i wanted to do was pit kids against each other in combat, is that so bad?”

  “I’M NO GUARD,” Papyrus responded flatly, “BUT I’M PRETTY SURE THAT’S FROWNED UPON. AT LEAST.”

  “somebody has to buck conventions.”

  Sans went to continue but was cut off as Papyrus pulled him in a rib crushing hug, couch squeaking as he craned to reach. “THANKS, SANS. I WAS GETTING REALLY WORRIED THAT I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO USE MY MAGIC... YOU’RE SO COOL, AND I APPRECIATE IT!”

  Sans cuddled him in return, giving him a few pats on the back in reassurance. “aww, c’mon you big sap, you don’t need to worry about it. it’s what i’m here for. bad puns, and magic. might as well put my talents to use, right?”

  They stayed like that for a few minutes, both aware that this was more than a momentary burst of pride. Papyrus was growing up. It was no longer a case of Sans pretending they were both on the same level yet still fulfilling a parental role. They could finally hang out and talk about stuff that didn't matter, like normal brothers, truly, truly equals. Sans could make fun of Papyrus' crushes, Papyrus could snipe at him about his sleeping patterns, but it would always be in the knowledge that, when it came down to it, they would do anything for each other. Sans broke the hug, adjusting himself, settling back into his comfy spot.

  “when you grew up,” Sans admitted, “i thought i’d need to tell you about, y’know, birds and the bees, relationships, all that stuff. didn’t think i’d need to account for housefires.”

  “YOU’VE DONE A REALLY GOOD JOB! APART FROM THE EXPLAINING THE ‘BIRDS AND BEES’ THING,” Papyrus admitted, scratching at the nape of his neck.

  Sans actually looked a little taken aback, the novelty of his expression surprising Papyrus. “wha? i drew diagrams. i put a lot of effort into those. shaded them and everything, what, d’you want me to do a full oil painting of a vag-”

  Papyrus groaned in embarrassment, averting his eyes, wanting to avoid the topic. “NO, NOT THAT! IF ANYTHING, YOU EXPLAINED TOO MUCH. I KEPT TELLING YOU THAT I ALREADY _KNOW_ WHAT... YOU KNOW, GOES ON, BUT YOU JUST KEPT TALKING!”

  “i can’t overstate how proud i was of those diagrams. i wasn’t just gonna throw ‘em out because you already know the deal. you know how hard it is to draw fluid, dude? any idea?”

  Papyrus had clamped the pillow to his face, cheeks on fire. “THAT IS NOT THE POINT.”

  “you want me to whip out the flipbook? i’ll do it, bro. i’ll do it.”

  Papyrus was tucked into himself, clutching the cushion, well aware Sans was ribbing him but too mortified to do anything about it.

  Sans looked at his brother and grinned, gentle affection and contentment bubbling through him, in the pit of his soul. “love you paps, you skinny skeleton arsonist.”

  Papyrus peeped his face out from the cushion. “I LOVE YOU TOO, YOU SMALL BAG OF DROOL.”

  “again with the height thing. low blow, man.”

  Papyrus dropped his voice apologetically, worried he had overstepped the mark. “I MEAN, IF YOU’RE ACTUALLY SENSITIVE ABOUT IT- OH MY GOD. LOW BLOW. REALLY?”

  Sans was snickering away to himself, eyelids drooping, comfortable in the knowledge that if the apartment was going to burn down it would be because of his jokes, not in a fit of adolescent angst.

  "WE SHOULD PROBABLY MOVE THE COUCHES BACK."

  "yeah, you probably should."

**Author's Note:**

> Sans and Papyrus hang out, and have an all around good time. I hope it was nice. ^-^


End file.
